


You and Me

by stellarose



Category: Avengers (Comics), Black Widow (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Bucky Barnes & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Bucky Barnes Angst, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, F/M, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 22:51:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19711111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarose/pseuds/stellarose
Summary: Set post the 2019 comic runs of Winter Soldier and Black Widow. Bucky and Natasha realise what they need most. One-shot.





	You and Me

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, etc. These belong to Marvel. This is set immediately after the 2019 runs of Black Widow, and in the final pages and then after 2019 Winter Soldier.
> 
> I am also uploading this on ff.net.
> 
> Please read, reply, leave kudos and enjoy! Your patronage is very much appreciated.

Bucky listened to Sharon’s footsteps crunching on the fallen leaves as she slowly walked away, allowing him to take the phone call in private. He wondered how desperate anyone could be to call him for help, and how desperate he had to be to try.

“This is Bucky Barnes. How can I help you?”

There was silence on the other end of the line. Maybe whoever it was knew how hopeless he was. Maybe they could tell by his voice that he could hardly save himself, let alone anyone else.

“Hello?”

Still silence. Bucky kicked absent-mindedly at the leaves, feeling despondent that this was the time he got a call from a wrong number or prank caller. “Hello? If there’s no-one there, I’m hanging up. Ok?”

“ _James?”_

Bucky almost dropped the phone. “Are - are you ok? Where are you? What do you need?”

_“Ha. Can’t I just call to say hi?”_

“Natasha,” Bucky breathed, his heart racing. “You never call to say hi. Are you ok?”

_“I’m not dead, if that’s what you mean.”_

“Are you hurt?”

Natasha paused before replying. _“I’m ok.”_

“Where are you?”

_“NYC. You?”_

“Indiana.”

_“Alone?”_

“Sharon Carter’s around. But she comes and goes. Currently in the act of going.”

_“Meet me at the airport. Alone. I’ll be three, maybe three and half hours. I’ll find somewhere to stay.”_

“Natasha, are you - ?”

_“No more questions right now, ok?”_ Natasha said, cutting Bucky off. _“I just - I need… I don’t know. I need to see you.”_

“Yeah, right. Ok. I - same here, actually.”

_“Ok, see you soon.”_

“Yeah,” Bucky said, feeling oddly relieved, yet nervous at the same time. “See you soon.”

…

Bucky absentmindedly reached into the box of chips, disappointed to find that it was empty. He refreshed the arrivals page for Indianapolis Airport on his phone for the hundredth time since he’d arrived, but without knowing what flight Natasha was one, there was no way to know if her plane had landed. He considered visiting Starbucks again, or even getting another cheeseburger. He decided to wait ten minutes, and if she still hadn’t arrived, he’d find more food.

As soon as Bucky had got off the phone to Natasha, he’d told Sharon that he needed to go to Indianapolis at once. Sharon knew better than to ask for specifics, but something about Bucky’s manner had made her smile. It appeared to her that he needed whoever had been on the other end of the phone more than they needed him.

“Did you save me any?”

Bucky looked up as Natasha slid into the seat opposite him. She placed her small Starbucks cup on the table, and dumped an overnight bag on the ground.

“Want me to order more?”

Natasha shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee. “Don’t worry. Been here long?”

So they were doing small talk. “A while,” Bucky said, not wishing to diverge quite how long that was. He would have waited for her all night if he’d had to. It was impossible not to notice that her fingernails were chipped and broken, that she had grazes and bruising on her knuckles, and though her hair was tied into a messy bun, some of the strands that had fallen out were singed. Not to mention she looked as though she hadn’t slept for a week, which she probably hadn’t. “You said you were ok…” Bucky said raising his eyebrows.

“You never said you got your face kicked in.”

“I’m getting better. And you didn’t ask.”

“Anyone I know?”

Bucky shook his head.

“What happened?” Natasha asked, sipping her coffee.

Bucky took a deep breath. “I’ve been trying to help. A case went - pear-shaped, to say the least. Kinda just made everything worse, I think. I dunno. I don’t know what… What about you?”

Natasha shrugged. “Went looking for a fight. Found one.”

“Feel better?”

Natasha looked at her coffee cup. “Don’t know,” she confessed. “I’m just so damned angry the whole time…”

“I’d pick anger over guilt.”

“I’ve been there,” Natasha said, “Guilt eats away at you.”

“Rage burns you out.”

Natasha finished the last of her coffee. “We’re so fucking messed up.”

Bucky couldn’t hide his smirk. “Is that why you came?”

“Don’t patronise me.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean - ”

Natasha sighed. “I sat on a rooftop all night not calling you. I can’t deal with any righteous Cap-crap. I’m so - I…”

“Wanna go somewhere else?” Bucky asked.

Natasha nodded, standing up and grabbing her bag. Bucky watched her move, and decided she definitely had more injuries than met the eye.

“I booked a room at Le Méridien.”

“Let’s get a cab,” Bucky said, standing up.

Natasha lead the way towards the taxi rank. Bucky fell into step beside her.

“I won’t be judged,” she said, looking straight ahead. “I came to you because I need someone who gets it. Who’s been there.”

“I get it, Natasha. Believe me.”

The back of Natasha’s hand brushed against Bucky’s. “I know. But I’m so…”

“If you’re gunna say lost…”

Natasha looked up at Bucky. “Let me guess, you know the feeling?”

Their hands brushed together again. This time, without either of them taking the lead, they entwined their fingers. He was more grateful for her touch than he could say. If it weren’t for Natasha, he would have caved to his ghosts long ago. “You know I do,” he said. “You’re the only one who really does.”

…

“Leah Rodgers is a new fake ID name,” Bucky said as they entered the deluxe corner room.

“Had to get a couple of new ones,” Natasha replied, dumping her bag on the desk and kicking off her boots.

“So, what happened? Where have you been?”

Natasha sat down on the desk chair and unwound her scarf, placing it on the desk. “Madripoor. Long story.”

“We’ve got a long time.”

“I want your story too. Why you got your face kicked in.”

“Deal,” Bucky said, sitting down on the bed. “Not hard to find a fight in Madripoor.”

Natasha leant back in the chair and explained her misadventures in Madripoor to Bucky, who then returned the favour by recounting his latests exploits with the young RJ.

“At least you saved the kids,” Bucky said.

Natasha shrugged. “That never should have happened in the first place.”

“Lucky Tyger was around.”

“Yeah, but it was her guy who was running the whole sick affair.”

“I don’t remember you being this negative. You’re not gunna accept the win, are you?”

“Bit rich coming from Mr Self Pity 2019.”

Bucky chuckled. There was nothing she could say or do that would make him love her any less. They both knew that whatever insults they flung, or how much they ranted, there was a reason they were both here now.

“I really missed you, you know.”

Natasha shrugged. “Thanks for listening to me rant, I guess.”

“Same here,” Bucky said, feeling much lighter having been able to talk openly to Natasha. He wondered if she knew just how much he had missed her. Enough to team-up with Clint Barton on a ridiculous mission. Enough to admit that Clint had been right.

“How come I feel like I still want to burn everything?” Natasha said, “Why didn’t the rage go away? I still want to - I…”

“Toska,” Bucky said.

“What?”

“Toska. When you know you’re yearning for something, but you don’t know what it is,” Bucky said in Russian.

“I know what it means, I wasn’t expecting you to change language. And that’d be damned right that there’s a word for it in Russian but not English.”

“It’s a common complaint,” Bucky said, returning to English.

“I don’t want to be anyone’s pawn. Anyone’s agent or operative or…”

“You seem pretty sure on what you don’t want. What about what you do?”

“I don’t, I - ” Natasha stumbled, unable to find the right words. “I don’t need saving.”

“You seldom do.”

Natasha looked out the window. “Maybe I want help,” she said quietly. “Not like, some maiden in the tower in need of rescue, just…”

“Immediate extraction from your current location?” Bucky asked.

“Ha,” Natasha looked up, and realised how close to one another they were standing. “That’s just the fancy military way of saying rescue me from the tower.”

“Not quite,” said Bucky. “It’s recognising that the tower is falling down, and you need assistance getting out so as not to go down with it.”

“This has gotten extremely metaphorical,” Natasha said. They were now close enough for her to feel his breath. “But you know I work better alone.”

“And we both know that’s a lie. Together, we - ”

Natasha threw her arms around Bucky’s neck and reached up and kissed him on the lips. Bucky closed his eyes and gratefully kissed her back. He wrapped his arms around her back. Natasha winced, and they stepped apart.

“Are you ok?” Bucky asked.

“I’m fine. Just a bit, well, more sore than I thought.”

Bucky gently reached down and pulled of her top. “Holy shit, Natasha,” he said, looking at her body.

Natasha shrugged, reaching to undo his trousers. “I told you I got blown up.”

“Have you seen a doctor?”

“Did you?”

“Yes.”

“Huh. No. I’m fine.”

“Your terrible lies are why I’m always gunna worry, Nat.”

“I know,” Natasha said, pushing Bucky’s trousers down past his hips, then lifting up his shirt. “But I’ve had worse.”

Bucky wriggled out of his trousers. “Still gunna worry.”

Natasha pushed Bucky back onto the bed and sat over him while Bucky undid her belt. “How are you going to record this case?” she asked, pulling off her jeans and socks.

“I’m not,” Bucky replied, sliding up the bed.

“Won’t Sharon Carter have question?” Natasha teased.

Bucky reached up and unclipped her bra, which Natasha flung aside. Bucky pulled back the covers.

“Sharon Carter is not who I want to think about right now,” Bucky said, as Natasha crawled up the bed and leant over him.

“Oh please,” Natasha said, “We could be talking about anything right now. Accounting. SHIELD. Do you have a will? Did you remember to put out the garbage? Feed the cat?”

“Sharon will do that,” Bucky said, gritting his teeth.

“We can talk about anything,” Natasha said, slowly letting her weight rest on his chest, “But you’re exactly where you want to be.”

Bucky ran his right hand up Natasha’s thigh. “Feels like you are too.”

…

“You threw me, you know, when you answered the phone,” Natasha said, propped up on one elbow wile lying beside Bucky, lightly tracing faded scars on his chest.

Bucky looked up at her, and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “What do you mean?”

“I was ready to tell you everything, but you used the magic phrase, and I pulled up all my defences…” Natasha said, avoiding his gaze.

“What’s wrong with how I answer the phone?” Bucky asked.

“Nothing. And - it’s not like you knew it was me, so I guess I’m to blame as much as you.”

“I still don’t - ”

“‘How may I help you?’”

“What?”

“That’s what you said when you answered the phone.”

“I know but - oh.”

Natasha lay back down and looked at the ceiling. “It’s really hard to respond with ‘I’m lonely and lost and want to have angsty, stressed sex’ when you answer the phone like that. So I improvised.”

“You still got the sex,” Bucky grinned, rolling onto his side.

Natasha couldn’t stop a small smile reaching her lips. “Touché.”

“And you got to debrief. And you’re not alone. So that’s three from three, despite me not following whatever mystery script you wanted when answering the phone. And for what it’s worth, I think they’re the top three things I needed too.”

“A debrief, company, and angsty sex?”

Bucky shrugged, still smiling. “What can I say?”

Natasha sighed. “I wasn’t afraid. In Madripoor, when they had me tied up…they could have killed me. Cut me to pieces. I don’t know. I almost wanted them to. Just - stab me or something. Give me that release. Just to feel something other than rage.”

“Oh, Nat…” Bucky said.

Natasha bit her lip and continued to look at the ceiling. “I thought I could do it without anyone else. I’m mad because I needed help. I know that’s stupid, but it’s true. I’m mad because needing help put others in danger. I’m mad at myself because I was - I am so filled with rage, that I couldn’t see it was the guy literally right in front of us who was pulling the strings. I thought I was free from all that crap, but he was using me. He was literally selling me off to the highest bidder.”

Bucky sighed and rolled back onto his back. He reached down and took Natasha’s hand. “Whatever we do, we’ll always have a target on our backs.”

Natasha wrapped Bucky’s arm around her, and rolled into him.

“As Avengers,” he said,“Solo. Together… or not. They’ll always be someone who wants us dead. Or worse. It’s - I’m not sure the rest of the Avengers get that.”

“I know they don’t,” Natasha murmured.

“So… you and me, we’re…?”

“I kinda wanna say no,” Natasha said, leaning into his embrace, “But it’ll probably be the end of the world next week, or we’ll be invaded by Skrulls or Shi’Ar or some aliens we don’t know, or the X-Men will have another civil war but call it something else and destroy half the city in the process, or Tony Stark will accidentally create another apocalypse, or it will be actual Ragnarok, or god only knows what, so… yeah. Ok. You and me.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, cuddling Natasha. “You and me.”


End file.
